


Fast Metabolism

by riot3672



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Asgardian Liquor, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Gen, House Party, Implied Relationships, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riot3672/pseuds/riot3672
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After one of Tony’s famous “revels,” Pietro complains about the lack of affect alcohol has on him. The Avengers decide to stop at nothing to fix that, much to Wanda’s dismay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fast Metabolism

This celebration was setting a new record for Tony Stark as it hit the seventh hour with the music still fighting over the cacophony of voices–storytellers dramatizing their every breath from previous missions, giggles and chuckles all around, and the occasional scream or scream-like gasp when something was especially interesting. Drinks were passed around in every shaped glass, in colors Wanda didn’t think were natural even with the best food coloring on earth. 

She’d been sticking to Pietro and Clint’s company, neither of them interested in either seeking out conversation with strangers nor forcing her to engage. She swirled her drink around, trying to recall the name Natasha had given it when she handed it to her a few hours before.

“Is that strong?” Pietro asked her.

She shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’ve only had this, but I don’t feel much different.”

“Figures.”

Pietro had been trying to get a buzz all night, cleaning out the biggest chunk of Stark’s liquor collection than any other guest, but he was still as sober as ever. He’d been lamenting about their days as teenagers before the experiments when he could get drunk off a bottle of vodka and parade around the streets like a king. 

“Honestly, kid, you have never sounded more like an angsty teenager than you do tonight,” Clint said to Pietro. “Teenagers complain about other teenagers who act like you, whining for a buzz.”

Pietro crossed his arms. “Not saying much for you, old man. You’ll be passed out after two beers.”

After a moment of dirty looks, Clint and Pietro broke out in smiles. 

“Tony has Everclear. It’s two times as strong as the vodka in the drinks being passed around,” Clint commented.

Pietro tugged at Wanda’s sleeve as he moved toward the bar, and she followed without much protest. Hopefully, the party would wrap up soon, so someone besides her and Clint could tell Pietro that it was never going to happen; his metabolism was just too fast for getting drunk.

Pietro spotted Natasha behind the bar, and slid in right in front of her. Natasha startled, but regained her composure as quickly as Pietro showed up.

“Tell me, Romanoff,” Pietro said, leaning on the bar. “The Old Man mentioned there being stronger liquor in this war zone. Can you confirm?”

Natasha smiled. “What do you mean by strong?”

“Considering how soft these Americans are, it’s probably illegal here.”

Natasha nodded, turned around, and dropped a half-empty bottle of clear liquid in front of Pietro. “150 proof. It’s technically only illegal in some states.” Pietro started to pour himself a glass. “But the really strong stuff is what Tony makes himself.”

Pietro mouthed, “Get that,” and smiled.

Wanda watched in slight horror as Pietro mixed Everclear and Tony’s homemade moonshine, pouring arbitrary amounts one after another into his glass. 

“That’s not going down easy,” Natasha commented, a smile playing on her lips.

“We’ll see.” Wanda had to give her brother some credit; he kept a pretty straight face taking his first swig. “Yeah, this isn’t good.” 

He handed it to her, and she tried to decline, but Pietro insisted. Wanda sighed took the tiniest sip she could, and did her best to not outright gag. “Pietro, God, that’s awful.”

He took the glass back. “But it’s strong.”

While Pietro chugged down the death elixir he’d made, Stark came running up, slurring, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!” Stark snagged the moonshine and Everclear bottles right off the bar. “You’ve already depleted half my stash. If you haven’t gotten drunk already, newsflash Petri, you never will.”

Tony walked away with his bottles still in hand, and Pietro didn’t get anything from the moonshine/Everclear. 

The party waned down soon after, leaving only the core Avengers in Tony’s beach house by the end.

“Quick Maximoff, Stark told me about your problem,” Thor said as Pietro and Wanda joined everyone in Stark’s living room.

“You have something to fix it?” Pietro asked.

Thor pulled out a flask. “It’s aged Asgardian liquor. A drink meant for gods. But, perhaps for someone like you, it would have the desired effect.”

Thor handed Pietro the flask, and her stupid, fearless brother poured several ounces of the alien liquor into his glass and drank. Pietro shook his head, exhaled, and looked up with a grin.

“Here we go,” he said.

“Considering his metabolism, even this probably won’t last long,” Steve commented.

Tony sat up. “Then let’s take advantage of our limited window.” He leaned forward. “Pietro, do you find your sister attractive?”

Wanda took a deep breath; Stark was just being stupid. No harm done. Steve huffed. “First language, now this?”

“Hey, Cap, watch it. Don’t insult their Eastern European royal traditions,” Stark quipped.

Pietro, rocking back and forth, finally found an answer. “Wanda’s…Wanda’s very pretty. Always. I…” He looked to her, a goofy smile on his face.

“You what?” Stark encouraged.

“Hey Maximoff, will you mow the field when we get home?” Clint asked.

Pietro looked to Clint. “No–Yes. Sure.”

“Promise? On your parents’ graves?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

Natasha shook her head. “You guys are doing this wrong. It’s not about what they say, it’s about what they do. Tony, where’re the controls for the music?”

Five minutes later, Wanda was wriggling unsuccessfully out of Pietro’s grip as he danced–stumbled, really–around the living room singing to Taylor Swift’s “Blank Space.” Everyone watching was in hysterics, and maybe it would’ve been funny if Wanda didn’t have to shoot out blasts just to keep Pietro from hitting the floor.

“’Darling, you’re a nightmare dressed like a daydream,’” he slurred to Wanda, dipping her down, getting as physically close as they’d gotten when their parents taught them how to ballroom dance. 

“Stark, there’s your answer,” Thor said, motioning toward Wanda and Pietro.

“Aww, it’s okay, Petie, you can kiss your sister. No one’s judging,” Stark joked.

“Look at them. They touch each other more than Steve touches his girlfriends,” Clint commented.

“Any two people touch each other more than Steve and his lady friends,” Natasha joked.

For a moment, everyone switched to laughing at Steve.

Wanda shot out a burst of energy that pulled Pietro off her, and grabbed his wrist to toss him back onto a couch. 

“Well, that was nice,” Stark said, clapping his hands together. “But no one’s had Quicksilver run yet.” Oh, God no. “Pietro, look alive.” Pietro looked up. “You’re like Jesus, right?”

“I am Jesus Christ, you little prick,” Pietro replied, not even looking at Stark.

“Well, there’s some water below us. Pacific Ocean. If you’re really Jesus, you’d uh, run on water and catch me a…arrowtooth halibut.”

Even if the sun was beginning to rise, Stark had just suggested about the worst thing Pietro could be doing at that point. But, before she could utter a protest, Pietro threw off his shoes and sped off to the nearest patch of beach on Stark’s property.

“I’m going to kill you,” Wanda snarled at Stark. Vision came in around then, like the perfectly timed savior he was. “Vision, Tony sent my brother on a death mission somewhere out in the ocean. Could you get him?”

“No, Vision!” Stark and Clint protested.

“It’ll only take a moment,” Vision replied before flying off.

He had a half-soaked Pietro back in the Stark mansion in less than ten seconds, a fish flopping in his hands.

“I don’t know what fish you said,” Pietro said, tossing the fish into Stark’s lap.

While Stark tossed the live fish onto Steve, Pietro stumbled to his feet, started running, and managed to go fifteen feet before smacking into a wall.

“Where’s he trying to go?” Bruce asked.

“Who cares?” Stark got up. “C’mon, Clint. One more.”

Wanda would’ve followed those two, but knocking Pietro out of the way of stationary objects was more urgent. 

“I hope you remember this, and how idiotic you look right now,” Wanda mumbled as she followed her brother around that level of the Stark mansion.

“Hey, Pietro, c’mere!” Clint called from downstairs.

Downst–

Pietro ran right into it, speeding toward the staircase that led to the first floor, tripped on the rope Stark and Clint had set up, and crashed down the staircase. The final thud and crash of Pietro hitting the wall nearest to the staircase shook the house, and it wasn’t just Wanda going down to check on her brother.

“He looks like the insect that died on Jane’s car the other day,” Thor said.

Pietro was literally lying on the ground twitching like a bug, blood spurting out his face, one hand broken to the point of deformity, and his other limbs questionable. 

Wanda rushed to him, instincts firing the adrenaline she didn’t technically need to feel looking at her injured brother. She knew he would heal any moment, but seeing him hurt…especially ever since the battle in Sokovia when she believed he’d actually died, it sent her for a loop. 

“Stay still,” Wanda ordered her brother, who was still smiling like a drunk prick.

She adjusted his broken nose back into place, just in time for Pietro’s healing abilities to take care of the broken skin, but his hand was another matter. By the time she could turn her attention to it, his bones had already fused. 

“He may or may not remember this, Stark, but I’m going to make your life a living hell,” Wanda said.

“And you’ll never see it coming,” Pietro added.

Wanda looked around the room, and settled on a dense, shining sphere. She picked it up, and slammed it down onto Pietro’s hand. He cried out, and everyone around the two of them cringed. She knew she shouldn’t, but the sphere broke upon impact, and she was a little proud of it.

Wanda ignored Tony’s protests about his “fine art” as she reset Pietro’s fingers joint by joint. 

“Don’t. Drink. Again,” Wanda said to her brother as he sat up, rubbing his head.


End file.
